The Accident
by fangirl1982
Summary: Cute, fluffy one-shot I wrote between the angst of The Baby.


Gabrielle Jaeger, excellent friend, nurse supreme and talented scrabble player, looked at her house-mate's expensive coffee machine – Jack was actually _proud_ of the fact it cost more than his car – morosely. Make hospital equipment worth tens of thousands of dollars work when the repairman said it was beyond salvaging she could do. Get this piece of overpriced junk to make her coffee she couldn't. Seriously, what was wrong with instant _Picky bastard_, she thought irritably. And the thing was, after living together for a few weeks, she found instant wasn't good enough for her, either. Jack had her hooked on expensive coffee.

She was in the middle of futilely jabbing her finger at random buttons when Jack came home. "Hands off my coffee machine!" he said indignantly. "Dan managed to break it." How otherwise highly capable nurses could handle pieces of equipment far more expensive than his coffee machine and yet stuff it up was beyond Jack.

"I can't even turn it _on_ to break it," she protested. She jabbed at another button in frustration.

Jack came up to the machine, reached beyond it and switched the power on at the plug before hitting the same _on_ button she'd been pressing uselessly for the last five minutes. "Remember what I told you about it using electricity even when it was off?" he asked her.

"Yeah, Mr-Smarty-Coffee-Maker's machine is so good, it uses power even when it's sitting on its ass not doing anything," she grumbled, peeved that she hadn't thought of something so obvious as switching on the power at the socket. Matter of fact, she _did_ remember Jack explaining to her that most new electrical devices still used power when plugged in. She thought the whole thing was stupid. Why make a machine that was still going to use power even when it was actually being _used_?

"Gabs, do you want a coffee?" Jack asked. He could do with one himself.

"Whatever you're having."

She watched him handle the machine better than most men handled their cars (although given the piece of crap Jack drove, she didn't blame him for loving his coffee machine more), in fact, better than most cafe owners she'd seen handled their coffee machine. "That how you got through uni?" she asked. Jack rarely talked about himself, and she was always looking for ways to get him to divulge personal information.

"God, no. I had a scholarship, stipend and good old Centerlink. I also had a string of older girlfriends with expensive taste. It was one of the things I was willing to stretch my budget for."

"As opposed to a car?"

"You only need a car to get you from A to B. A good coffee with good companionship is worth so much more."

He had a way of saying things like that which made Gabrielle wonder what it would be like to date such a man. Her one and only serious relationship had been with a man who was even more a farmboy then she was a farmgirl. Living with Jack had certainly proved interesting. For one thing, he read voraciously – fiction, non-fiction, whatever newspapers and magazines he found the time to get to. It wasn't until Jack had moved in that she had even begun to comprehend how intelligence was so much more than just being book-smart.

"How do you get the milk to do that?" she asked. "I keep burning it."

He looked at her suspiciously and Gabrielle realised she'd just dobbed herself in. "Have you been playing with it while I wasn't around?" he asked.

"Only the milk thing!"

Well, that explained why they seemed to be going through so much milk. "OK, firstly, the _milk thing_ is called a nozzle. Secondly, you have to tilt it like this and see how you're getting the circular motion?"

"Yeah, you showed me that before, but I still couldn't do it. It just makes that hissing sound."

Jack shuddered to think what she'd been putting his machine through. "OK, come here." He stepped to the side slightly and motioned for her to stand where he'd been standing. He stepped behind her, grabbed her hands, put them on the handle of the milk jug and curled his fingers over hers. "Watch." He went through the steps again as slowly as he could – so slowly, that it quickly got boring for him, and in his boredom, his mind wandered. He had moved in several weeks ago, but being the private person he was, he didn't like people in his personal space, and didn't like getting in theirs, so he hadn't yet been in such close proximity to her – unless you counted the time last year they'd been out looking for a patient's dog, which had turned out to be a massive growling mastiff and she'd jumped into his arms.

It was that moment he'd realised how tall she was, easily five-ten in her flat hospital shoes. Which meant she could top six foot in heels. Which meant he could dance with her and not have to crick his neck just to meet his eyes.

Not that he spent much time thinking things like that. It was just that he was in just as close proximity to her now, and it couldn't be denied it had been ages since he'd been in such close proximity to a woman, and have it not be about work.

It didn't help that she was an attractive woman. Not just that – she was easy to talk to. Not that he talked much about his private life. So much better left unsaid. But she was eager to learn new things – he'd been worried she would think of him as an intellectual snob, but she actually seemed to _like_ that he was knowledgeable. Plus, she was a mean scrabble player. And was fast learning how to play a decent game of chess. And made him think about his own stereotypes. And made him laugh. She was witty and funny in a way his last housemate hadn't been, and he liked that about her. And that when she finished work before him, she had already started dinner by the time he got home. Who _wouldn't_ like that in a housemate?

Who wouldn't like that in a girlfriend?

She must have washed her hair recently; he could smell it. Christ, did she use lavender for _everything_? Her shampoo, her soap, her laundry – after two years with Dan, it was odd to have everything smell of such a female scent... he was suddenly very aware of how nice she felt, and how her back was up against his chest and if they were just a fraction closer and he put his arm around her waist it would be considered an embrace...

Gabrielle yelped as Jack let go of the milk jug. Losing the extra hold meant it slipped out of her fingers, knocking the nozzle and sending a spray of steam into her midsection. She screamed in pain. "Shit, I'm so sorry," he apologised profusely. He'd let his mind wander and –

He yanked the cord out of the socket, which immediately shut the hissing nozzle up. He had given himself enough steam burns in his life to know how nasty they could be. Without waiting for her permission, he swung her into his arms and carried her into the shower, where he dumped her and cranked up the cold water. "Stay there for as long as you can take it," he ordered. "And don't even think about putting the hot water on."

Too late, he realised the effect of water on her white uniform shirt. He turned his head away fast enough to get whiplash. He quickly exited the bathroom and retrieved her pyjamas and nightgown from her room, bagged them and hooked the bag on the inside of the bathroom door handle without poking his head in. The chill from the cold water permeated the bathroom, which meant she had followed his instructions and not turned on the hot water. _Good_, he thought. He knew from experience that burns could be a lot nastier than they first looked, and he didn't want to take chances with her.

Ten minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped up tightly in her dressing gown – which no doubt smelled of lavender – and shivering. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly when he saw how cold she was. "I just wanted you to do a thorough job. C'mere." Gabrielle scooted over to the couch and Jack pulled her into his arms. He briskly ran his hands up and down her arms until she had stopped shivering, if not from the warmth his touch was creating then at least from the fact she was no longer in a freezing cold shower. "You put anything on it?" he asked.

"Burn cream."

"Can I see it?"

"Jack, it's fine."

"Please? Look, I feel really bad. I was trying to teach you and I got distracted. I feel awful and I just want to make sure you're alright. Here, lie down." He pushed down on her stomach to make her lie on the couch. She felt a little foolish. This was Jack, her friend and housemate, not her doctor. And the way he looked at her with those concerned eyes – more and more she was aware that the colour of his eyes changed with his mood, and right now they were grey with flecks of green in them.

She lay down and let him pull open her dressing gown and slowly pull her pyjama top up. She found herself feeling a little hot and blushed – distinctly at odds with the deep chill she felt from the cold shower – as Jack's fingers worked his way over her burnt skin, pushing her top up as he went. He was surprisingly gentle. She didn't know where she had gotten the idea that he had a rough touch – his patients had certainly never complained – maybe from some of the things Rachel had said about him.

Because thinking about her temp nurse that Jack – supposedly devastating in bed – had seduced, discarded and destroyed was going to make her feel less flustered.

"You OK?" Jack asked mildly. He was making an extra effort to be gentle with her. It was one thing to inflict necessary pain on a patient to work out what was wrong with him, but this was his friend, a woman he had a great deal of fondness for, and there was something deeply wrong with hurting a woman close enough to call a friend – at least in Jack's opinion.

"Fine."

"You seem a little tense. I can stop, if you want."

Because she was going to insist that he stop after _that_, and look like a ninny who couldn't take a basic physical. Jack would never let her forget it. She would never let _herself_ forget it. "It's fine," she insisted. "Just a little tender."

He looked guilty when she said that. "Sorry," he said again.

"I should have just let you get on with it. What _were_ you thinking about, anyway?" she asked, idly curious.

Now it was his turn to feel flushed. "Just work," he mumbled.

If she wasn't feeling so flustered at that moment, she would have latched onto Jack's own flustered behaviour. "Trust you to be thinking about work," she teased, trying to break the awkwardness of the moment. He had thrown himself into his work after returning to the ED late last year following his breakdown – over what, she wasn't sure, and she wasn't even sure it mattered anymore. Certainly, knowing who knew Jack these days could criticise his professionalism – or his private life, so discreet that many questioned if it even existed.

"You seem to be OK, although it will hurt for a few days," he murmured softly. He was surprised at just how far the steam had sprayed. "I think next time, _I'll_ make the coffee," he joked, trying to make the moment light. He didn't even know _why_ he was feeling so flustered. He'd certainly had to touch patients far more intimately in the past. The trouble was, Gabrielle wasn't really a _patient_, she was an attractive woman he had a lot of fun with, and the last time he had been this up-close-and-personal with a woman who wasn't a patient had been...

... Gabrielle tried not to react when she felt Jack's fingers brush under her breasts. She had known this was coming, because she knew just how far up the steam had managed to spray. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling. He had a gentle touch but there was something more to it than that. Something kind of pleasant, but its very pleasantness made her uncomfortable. This was _Jack_. Jack, her friend, Jack, her colleague, Jack who had slept with one of her nurses – not to mention a good friend of hers. What the hell had she been thinking, letting him touch her like this? She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but before she could, Jack withdrew his hands and pulled down her top as casually as if he were dealing with another patient.

"You'll be fine," he said. He was looking at her as if contemplating something, then something switched in his eyes. "You wanna watch a DVD?"

It was like he had gone from doctor to friend with the flick of a switch. She wondered if he had felt whatever it was she had felt, then decided he couldn't have. He wouldn't have just switched off like that if he had. No, Jack had just seen her as someone hurt to deal with. It was nothing more then that.

She didn't know why she felt so disappointed. And so awkward around him right now. If it hadn't meant anything to him, then why should it mean anything to her? "I think I'll just go to bed," she said.

"It's six o'clock."

"I'm tired. I guess this has taken it out of me." She waved abstractly across her chest to demonstrate what she meant. Jack nodded slightly to say he understood, hiding the fact he found her abruptness hurtful. That, and he _liked_ watching DVDs with her at the end of the day. He _liked_ her companionship.

"Have I done something wrong?" he blurted out.

"Don't be silly, Jack. I'm just tired, that's all." She wondered if he actually wanted her company or he just felt bad for getting her hurt. She scooted off the couch before he had the change to say anything else, and made her way to her room, leaving Jack to wonder if he'd crossed a line with her – or if she'd realised by what had to be a flustered look on his face what he had _really_ been distracted over.

Gabrielle was already gone by the time Jack got up, which was odd, because he usually started earlier than her. He found her later at her desk, and questioned it. "I had paperwork to do," she said.

"At seven in the morning? You forget I've dated two of your predecessors. Neither of them ever got up at six."

Jack wasn't to know it but it was about the worst thing he could have said. It just reminded Gabrielle of Jack's dating history – two of her predecessors, as he had said, and God knew how many one-night stands and flings in between. No wonder he hadn't given her a thought beyond acting like a doctor last night. "Your exes are not exactly women I care to aspire to," she said. Especially not Deanna Richardson.

"Point taken," he said dryly. But it still didn't explain why she had gotten up so early. "Look, is everything cool with us? I feel like I crossed a line last night."

"Don't worry about it, Jack. You were just... doing your job. It was nice that I had someone around to act. I probably would have left it, you know how stubborn I am." Her laughter sounded tinny even to her ears.

Jack looked at her intently for a few seconds. Something definitely wasn't adding up, but if she wouldn't talk to him... "OK. If something _is_ up, you know you can talk to me, yeah?"

She nodded slightly. As if she would tell him she'd felt chemistry when he'd touched her – chemistry he clearly didn't feel. "Yeah." He shut the door behind him when he left her to it. She spent a few more minutes on the paperwork she had used as an excuse to get out of the house before Jack got up, before throwing her pencil down in frustration. It was no use, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Especially not when he looked at her with his green-grey eyes as if he could bore right into her brain if he could.

* * *

"Jack, is something up between you and Gabrielle?" Zoe Gallagher asked Jack a few days later. It wasn't difficult to notice that Jack and Gabrielle had a weird vibe going, a far cry from their usual easygoing camaraderie. And if she had noticed it so quickly, it wouldn't take long before Frank did. Or Steve, for that matter. And the last thing Zoe needed was for the uneasy truce Jack and Steve had settled into to flare back into hostilities. She had long since regretted Frank's decision to hire Steve (although technically, it should have been _Jack's_ hiring she was regretting, since Steve had come on board to the ED, if not the hospital, before Jack. But Zoe was far fonder of Jack than Steve, so there was no choice, really). The two men squabbled like – well, two alpha males. Jack's friendship with Gabrielle had merely exacerbated that. And if Steve latched onto the weird vibes between Jack and Gabrielle lately, well, it wouldn't take much to set him off as far as Jack was concerned.

"No, why?" Jack asked as believably as he could, because he was far more aware than Zoe was of the weirdness between him and Gabrielle the last few days.

"You guys seem to be a bit off these last few days. You usually have such a great working relationship. Teething problems living together?" When she had first heard Gabrielle had offered Jack one of her spare rooms and Jack had accepted, she had been a little apprehensive. There were few ways as effective as ruining a good friendship or working relationship as living together.

"Nope. We got along great."

Zoe raised her eyebrows at the past tense. "_Got_ along great?" she asked.

"It was great until a few days ago. I mean, I'd never lived with someone before so I just figured Dan being a slob who couldn't could was something you were supposed to put up with. But Gabby and I really gelled." He smiled, thinking about the way she didn't make him feel like an intellectual snob the way Dan could, however unintentionally.

"But?" Zoe prompted.

"But then – it was such a silly thing, I think I crossed a line and I tried to talk to her about it but she keeps saying it was no big deal." Jack found himself explaining what had happened.

"You don't think maybe she feels you invaded her privacy?" Zoe asked.

"I asked her if she wanted me to stop!" Jack defended himself indignantly.

Zoe smiled ruefully. Gabrielle wasn't the type to admit what she would have been comfortable with had it been merely a doctor made her uncomfortable when it was a friend. "She probably did, and was just too proud to say so. I seem to recall a certain someone reluctant to admit he doesn't like being touched much."

Jack blushed at that. As part of his coming back to the ED, Zoe had been brought into the loop about the childhood sexual abuse that had caused Jack's breakdown. Frank didn't trust Jack's judgement when it came to sexual predators, nor did he trust Jack not to go behind his back when Zoe was in charge, so Zoe had been brought in the loop. It hadn't taken Zoe long to realise Jack's dislike of having people in his personal space (people except Gabrielle, that was) was linked to that childhood trauma. "Point taken," he admitted. "I'll talk to her."

* * *

He had Zoe tell her he'd be working late running errands for the ward and parked his car a few blocks away. He felt a bit guilty over the deception, but since Gabrielle was going to a fair effort to avoid him, he felt justified in it.

Needless to say, she was surprised to open the door and find Jack there after Zoe had said he wouldn't be home until late and his car hadn't been in the drive. "I thought you were working late," she said. "Your car isn't here."

"Parked it down the street."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I want to talk to you and you've been avoiding me."

"I have not, Jack, I've just been... busy."

She went to walk past him and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her around so she was facing him. "Crap," he called her on it. "You've been standoffish towards me ever since that night you got burnt. Look, I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy," he apologised softly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you.

"You didn't embarrass me, Jack. Look, I'm in a high-risk category for breast cancer. You think _that_ embarrassed me?"

"I think a physical from a doctor you know strictly in a professional sense is different to having a friend... look, it was stupid, I know, and I hate that I made you feel like we can't hang out anymore."

At the word _friend_ her heart sank a little. So Jack felt bad that she was avoiding him because he missed hanging out with her as a mate. Did he seriously not feel what she had felt when he touched her? Or was she that oblivious to what really happened between men and women than she had made it all up, like some sad housewife who sees everything as something from a Mills and Boons book? "It's fine, Jack," she said, with more bitterness than she had intended.

He looked at her with that same intense, quizzical look he'd given her the morning she'd left the house early to avoid him. She wasn't angry at him because he'd invaded her personal space and embarrassed her. She was angry at him over something else. She was angry at him because...

"You felt something," he blurted out, the realisation that she might have been as flustered as he had been for the same reason making his words trip over themselves.

"I did not!" she said indignantly, feeling her face flushed as Jack guessed why she had been so aloof towards him. God, now she was going to look like a complete idiot, thinking she had chemistry with the resident womaniser.

He pulled her towards him so his arm was wrapped around her waist. "Look at me," he commanded quietly. She turned her head away. "Quit with the childish games. Look at me." Reluctantly, she turned to face him.

"Jack, it's nothing," she whispered. "Just drop it."

"It is something." He brought his free hand to her mouth and traced her lips. He watched her close her eyes and enjoy the caress. Her knees started to buckle and he held her up easily. He lowered his head to kiss her, and felt her shudder in his arms when he did. He felt his own knees buckle and he pulled away reluctantly. "I need to sit down before I fall on my ass," he said huskily. He led her to the couch. She sat next to him, putting space between them, staring awkwardly at the wall. "Hey," he said gently, trying to move her to face him. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"What I _don't_ want, Jack, is to be discarded the way you did Rachel," she told him bluntly.

"Fair enough." What else was he supposed to say to that? He _had_ used and discarded Rachel. He still felt awful about it. He'd only wanted a night's distraction, and he should have gone to a bar for that – although _that_ hadn't exactly worked out great for him, either.

He had intended his words to be a recognition of his previous bad behaviour, but Gabrielle took them as a sign of indifference. "So what, you just want to laid?" she asked. _God, this just keeps getting better and better,_ she thought. It had been better when she had thought he _wasn't_ attracted to her.

"No, of course not! I just meant – look, I know I screwed up with Rachel. I still feel awful about it. I'm not – I'm not ready to tell you why I did it but I promise I will sometime. But I'm in counselling and I promise I wouldn't do that to you. I really like you... and I'd lose a great mate if I treated you like crap, not just a girlfriend." And finding decent mates, as his sister liked to say, were almost as hard as finding decent family members, and both were a damn sight harder to find then girlfriends or boyfriends. "I like spending time with you, Gabs," Jack admitted, his voice soft. "You make me laugh and you make me feel good about myself and... you make me feel like I'm wanted for myself."

"Jack, of course I want you for yourself. Why on earth would I want you for any other reason?"

"It doesn't matter." She was too good-natured, too sincere, to open about her thoughts to think like so many other women did – that having a surgeon for a boyfriend was the holy grail of dating, to hell with such things as compatibility and chemistry. "So... why don't we give this a try?"

"OK," she found herself agreeing, and Jack leaned in for another kiss. "But don't expect to get laid straight away," she warned. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"I know," he said. "I won't.

"And don't expect me to be some kind of adoring fan of a girlfriend who backs you up on every call and has dinner waiting for you every night, because I'm not that kind of girl either."

"I know. I won't."

"And don't –"

"Gabs, will you just shut up and let me kiss you?" Jack interrupted her.

So Gabrielle shut up and let Jack kiss her.


End file.
